


Singin' In The Rain

by lettalady



Series: Blips and Blurbs [20]
Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26483143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettalady/pseuds/lettalady
Summary: Prompt fulfillment with Tom Hiddleston and the reader walking home in the rain after seeing a show.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/You
Series: Blips and Blurbs [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925065
Kudos: 11





	Singin' In The Rain

**I** t had been mid-afternoon - mostly sunny, perhaps a few clouds on the horizon - when Tom had escorted you into the theater. You’d arrived early enough to tour around the aging structure and admire the décor before the show started. This particular theater, just a few blocks away from your current home, recently finished renovations. Finally, after many months of waiting [ _impatient waiting_ ] it has been restored to its former glory. 

Tom has your hand clasped tightly within his and is pulling one way, you’re pulling the other. “Look, they’ve redone the seating. We’ll be up in one of the old boxes! I can’t wait to see what the stage looks like from up there!”

They’d restored the paneling of the walls, pulled up all the worn out carpeting, and replaced all the kitschy lighting with fixtures that more closely matched the old photos of the playhouse. The company that had overseen the restoration had done a beautiful job. This experience is well worth the wait.

And then you’re lost in the world of the production. Nestled away with Tom in your own little nook it feels like a private showing. You’re reluctant to leave this magic behind, even after the final bow and the actors leave the stage to change and get on with their evening. 

You thought the rumbling of thunder had been part of the play but no – the scent of rain on the night air greets you in the lobby. A glance outside as some of the other patrons exit reveals it to be steadily raining. Tom exchanges a half-shrug with you. Neither of you had prepared for a wet trek home. Excellent planners, the both of you. You’d walked to the theater. You’ll be drenched by the time you make it the few blocks back to the house. It is warm enough out that you won’t be shivering, but what about Tom’s suit? Your dress?

Tom seems to have the same thought. He ducks over to talk to one of the staff members. After a moment of discussion the man produces an umbrella with the playhouse logo on the canopy. He smiles as he approaches you again, “Borrowed with the promise that we’ll be back soon to return it.”

“Soon?” You have food, and other things, on your mind.

He chuckles at you. “Tomorrow, at the earliest. He offered to call us a ride but I explained we live nearby.” Tom wraps his arm around your waist momentarily, a thought now occurring to him. “Unless you don’t want to walk back in those heels? I’m sorry darling, I was focused on securing the umbrella to share for the walk.”

You sway your body into his, bumping him back a step. “Oh the shoes. I’m fine in the shoes. If need be I can always go barefoot.”

He nods and leads the way out the door, opening the umbrella to provide shelter before stepping out from under the protection the building overhang offers. The rain taps on the umbrella canopy in an ever-so-slightly increasing rhythm. He adjusts his hold on the handle to attempt to further protect you from being splashed. You loop your arm around his, placing your hand on the umbrella handle as well to try to more evenly cover the pair of you but he isn’t having any of it.

“Stop being stubborn, Tom. You’re getting all wet.”

“I’ll dry out.”

The battle over who gets more coverage from the umbrella continues as the rain picks up pace. You’ve only made it a partial block in the right direction.

“So will I. Stop it.” You’re laughing and wondering what on earth the pair of you must look like to the few other people on the sidewalk braving the weather. They’re probably irritated by the two people using more of the sidewalk than necessary and throwing rainwater about.

Tom suddenly releases his grip on the umbrella and takes a few long strides a head of you on the sidewalk. The action leaves you holding the umbrella, the only one benefiting from its protection. “I won’t melt, see?”

“What are you, the Wicked Witch? Get back here.” He’s walking backwards now and keeping pace with you. When you try to quickstep forward he double times farther away.

“Feeling more like Don Lockwood right now, actually.” The rain is coming down quickly enough that his hair is already thoroughly sodden. He trails his fingers back over his head to pull the locks away from his face.

The play was more drama and action than love story. And it certainly wasn’t a musical, but he’s made the connection in that wondrous brain of his and there’s no stopping him now. “Oh no – no. Tom, don’t you start….” Too late, he’s set his mind to it now.

And then he’s belting out the song that has already started in your head: “ _I’m laughing at clouds, so dark up above. The sun’s in my heart and I’m ready for love._ ”

You shake your head, “Alright, sir. Enough now.”

He doesn’t miss a beat though he does move back towards the center of the sidewalk, towards you. “ _Let the stormy clouds chase everyone from the place. Come on with the rain, I’ve a smile on my face…_ ” You make a face at him when he rejoins you under the umbrella. This thoroughly soaked, crazy man that you love, wraps his arm around your shoulders and continues the song, softer now because of his close proximity. “ _I walk down the lane with a happy refrain. And singing, just singing in the rain.”_


End file.
